


Let Go

by whyntir



Series: Let Go (Be Free) [1]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, BDSM, Community: bdsm_fandom, Consensual Kink, Developing Relationship, Dom/sub Play, Enthusiastic Consent, Eventual Romance, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff and Humor, Getting to Know Each Other, Introduction to BDSM, M/M, Not Beta Read, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Other: See Story Notes, Rope Bondage, Safe Sane and Consensual, Smut, Strangers to Lovers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-26 21:42:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17149589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whyntir/pseuds/whyntir
Summary: North and Josh struggle with their on-again-off-again relationship, leaving Simon to placate the disaster that gets left behind. During one of their breaks, North springs tickets to a BDSM convention on him. A vacation of sorts, a break from the stress of work and reality. Simon goes along in support and quickly finds himself caught in a web of desire.Whoever knew bondage could be so freeing.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> All warnings for sexual content will be found at the beginning of all relevant chapters.
> 
>  
> 
> **Please be aware, this chapter contains:**  
>  _Bondage, Praise Kink, Rimming, Anal Fingering, Non-sexual tickling_

_His own breath echoed in his ears, the eerie silence engulfing him, it was unnerving. Every inhale sent ripples of cold anticipation through his body, despite the warmth of the room. The heavy blindfold secured over his eyes left him suspended in an expanse of darkness. His other senses straining to accommodate; ears pounding as his pulse hitched, bare skin tingling in a way that almost hurt. The soft rope held firm around his crossed wrists behind his head, but not tight enough to be painful. More bindings secured his forearms to his biceps, locking his upper body in place. From the knot around his hands, a braided cord pulled just tight enough, attaching to an anchoring rope around his waist, forcing him to arch his lower back to keep the pressure off his shoulders.His legs were secured in a kneeling position, tied calf to thigh, save for the intricate knots pressing along the sides, making it uncomfortable to close his knees. It wasn’t necessarily difficult; the position itself not hard to maintain despite the mental stress of the situation._

_He exhaled a shuddering breath, contemplating the urge to just curl in on himself, discomfort be damned. A pitiful groan escaped the back of his throat, causing his own body to react, back arching further. The sound of his own voice was all it took to set him on edge._

_A gentle laugh finally broke the silence and he bit his lip, fighting back the sigh of pleasure rippling through him. “No biting,” the smooth voice scolded, now looming just behind him, “Let me hear you.”_

* * *

“You know, I regret not going to one of these when I was in that social psychology class.” He stood against the wall, leaning back lazily, content to just watch the people passing by. In the main part of the hotel, he almost thought they were in the wrong place with how normal everyone looked. Jeans and sweaters, turtlenecks and bulky winter jackets slowly fading away as they passed into the reserved section, having to provide proof that they were indeed looking for the convention and they were both legal adults.

Once through the doors, it was the wonderland of debauchery he had been mentally preparing himself for. A woman in such insanely high heels walked by wearing nothing but a red thong and sweetheart bust corset, her makeup severe and striking as she led a man in a hood and bulky metal underwear that looked more like a codpiece down the hall on a leash. Across the way in one of the common rooms, an unassuming same-sex couple sat at a table talking to a man, and everything appeared normal until he realized the chair he was sitting on was actually a woman in black pvc bodysuit from her neck to her feet; body contorted so expertly Simon was genuinely impressed.

“That shit has got to be hot as fuck,” the short redhead commented, looking at the same piece of human furniture. “ _I’m_ getting a little hot under my tits, I can only imagine the raging inferno that is slowly burning away that poor woman’s soul.”

Simon snorted in response, covering the smile out of habit than truely feeling bad about her second-hand discomfort. After all, the entire thing had been her idea. North had been staying at his apartment for a couple days, probably feeling a little claustrophobic in the modest studio. She had more or less sprung this trip on him, though obviously had been thinking about it for some time. An itch of discomfort nagged at the back of his neck, telling him that his ticket had been intended for someone else; but he was here and it was too late now.

Josh and North had been together since college, meeting shortly after he and the former had become familiar. Josh had been studying to be a psychologist while Simon was already set on becoming a doctor, requiring them to take many of the same classes. It just made sense; they had similar goals and studying tended to be more productive with a companion, it was entirely accidental that they formed a legitimate friendship around it all.

North, on the other hand, was the social anthropology, women’s studies, social activist type. Outgoing and unafraid to make enemies, she was a wildfire of a human being with a passion so consuming it was essentially impossible not to be swept away by her. It was just unfortunate that neither of his friends were at all suited for each other. That same passion and desire to help others was their only unifying trait, but the how and the why just polarized them too far that the arguments were like the meeting of hot and cold air.

And Simon was the one left dealing with the mess on both ends.

“I see a lot of collars and shit,” North commented offhandedly, uncharacteristically reserved and sticking close to his side. “Like they’re pets or something.”

“Judging them?”

She sighed, her brows furrowed in a way he could read as uncertainty, “No, not really. I mean, what’s the difference if the collar is around your neck or your finger?”

He couldn’t help turning to her this time, but her piercing gaze was now directed on the floor, her face hidden by the loose strands of hair having broken free from the braid she had thrown over her shoulder. It wasn’t a time to ask, and letting her ruminate was what this entire trip was about avoiding. “So what else is there to do here, aside from the costume party.”

North snorted, a tinge of bitterness still distinctly present but she still had the decency to bite the bait. “They have little shops and booths set up on the second floor along with some workshops and such. Down here they’re just mingling until nightfall. Apparently the ballroom is being redesigned into a play dungeon or something once the regular public vacates.”

“Sounds like fun. So are we just gonna keep creepily staring at all the nice people or-?”

“So you’re willing to take a workshop with me?” she smiled wryly, side-eyeing him disbelievingly.

 _‘No. Not really,’_ he thoughts, tempted to just drop the subject entirely, but his sense of duty also informed him that he should really do more to keep her mind off the more pressing issues. They would have time for that later.

“Yeah, sure.”

North blinked as the words sunk in, a knowing smile replacing the withering one as she pushed herself off the wall, starting for the elevator without waiting for him to follow. “Then in that case, we need some defined roles. You can call me Mistress and you’re my Sissy.” Simon snorted, hands tucking themselves into his pockets as he followed half a step behind her, weaving through the crowd of the most colourful assortment of humans.

“Let’s get one thing square; I am not anyone’s _Sissy_.”

* * *

 

_Another groan escaped his throat as his lip slipped between his teeth, his entire body trembling despite the heat consuming him. Every nerve charged in anticipation, straining from just the faintest caress of a warm breath against his shoulder blade. He was right there, so close it hurt to think about._

_“Good boy.” The words were so simple, even demeaning if it had been murmured in any other context. But where they were, right now, it sent his heart stuttering against his breastbone. A bead of sweat trailed down the small of his back, the discomfort that should have been there from holding such a pose for so long was barely even registered, the rush of endorphins deadening the pain receptors._

_A finger gently trailed down the soles of his feet, his toes curling instinctively at the sensation, exhaling sharply in his best attempt at a laugh. The voice behind him chuckled as well, eating up every tiny reaction his body made. He swore he could feel those eyes on him, roaming over his naked form, appraising the dips and curves of his anatomy, admiring the bone and muscle structure, noting every mole and freckle and scar._

_He shuddered, lamenting with a pathetic whimper, the ragged edge of a sob threatening to escape. “What do you want?”_

_“Please.” The word tumbled from his lips without his consent, his brain barely able to string thoughts together beyond the electrical thrum of his arousal. “Please.”_

_“Please what? I don’t know what you want unless you tell me.”_

_The pitiful keen from the back of his throat spoke volumes of what he wanted and the other damn well knew it. He could hear the smile behind the words, his mind formulating the image behind the thick blindfold just to taunt him. “Shit, please! Touch me! Please.”_

_Two warm hands wrapped around his arms, fingers trailing down the outline of his silhouette languidly, as though completely ignorant of the effect it had on him. He had no clue how long he had been sitting in darkness, but the gentle sensation of touch was enough to shake the remaining foundation of his mind. He sighed at the release, the pent up frustration seeping out from under the gentle ministrations._

_“Like this?” the voice asked, he felt the heat of the other’s body radiating against his back and legs and hands, the ropes keeping him locked in place and open. The hands traveled further down, caressing his torso, dancing along the sensitive skin just above the rope knotted around his waist, eliciting a shaky moan. His chin tucked into the hollow of his throat, the best he could do given the situation. Undeterred, the hands trailed in, dragging up his taut stomach, thumbing away a hot trail of sweat before playfully rimming around his navel._

_Reverence. He had felt the ropes glide over his skin, felt the nylon’s cool pressure and hands with small, smooth calluses adore him in the beauty of their intricate knots. He had thought them a work of art and himself as the canvas, but the way those hands explored him slowly, gently; as if_ he _was the masterpiece. A quivering sigh, his thoughts unravelling, consumed by the bombardment of physical sensations. It was so much, too much, he feared he would float away as he sucked in his bottom lip, biting down harshly to ground himself inside his body._

_“No biting,” the tone was less playful, the authoritative note coursing through him on a level beyond blood and bone, leaving a cold chill sitting in the hollow of his ribcage, rippling through every muscle; a harsh contrast of the warm sweat and heat of the body behind him, the inferno of a voice, husky with arousal, but firm and commanding, caressing his jawline.  “Last warning.”_

* * *

The large screens set on either side of the small stage zoomed in on the way warm tawny hands deftly looped the braided rope around petite porcelain wrists, a silvery voice floating over the heads of the audience, soothing but modulated just so. Clear, concise, informative as the male instructor explained each step simply. Honestly, Simon was barely even paying attention to the exact words, listening to to the way each syllable flowed like water into the next. His hair cropped in a short buzz cut, accentuating a strong brow, high cheekbones and a defined jawline, occasionally he’d glance up to them as means of maintaining connection, the cool tone of those irises strikingly vivid against the richness of his complexion. Beside him, the petite blonde was just as attractive with large blue eyes that reminded him of the ocean, her round face and full lips the epitome of heterosexual desires. Both of them looked like models and it was almost surreal being in the same room as these two gods.

“He’s hot,” North interrupted his musings, staring just as doe-eyed at the handsome instructor as she rested her chin on the heel of her hand, leaning forward like some teacher’s pet.

“Are you even paying attention?” Simon muttered, leaning back in his seat, arms crossing instinctively on himself. He definitely wasn’t going to lean into the conversation, at least not now. Of course the man was attractive, he was beautiful. From his voice’s pitch and tone to how he weaved the woven cords, securing the pretty blonde girl’s wrists in an intricate web of nylon, resembling some sort of medieval set of handcuffs. The way he handled the bindings to his overall body language and simple gestures spoke of confidence and authority that garnered respect. Perhaps a tinge of envy as well; Simon had never been the outgoing sort, a timid and nervous teenager had grown into an anxious adult hiding behind a cynical world view and a dry sense of humour.

“I’m paying attention.”

He nudged her leg with his foot, “To _what_ he’s saying or his ass?”

Warm chestnut irises glimmered mischievously as she glanced from the corner of her eye before zoning back to the man. “Yes.”

Ducking his head to hide the smile, he barely caught the change in tone from the man on stage.

“We’ll now be opening the floor to questions and hands-on practice. On the projector we set up a step-by-step diagram for a basic bowline knot. Chloe will answer any questions you may have and I will be walking around if you need any assistance.”

The white braided nylon rope that had been coiled in the corner of the table suddenly looked more like a snake as he lunged to grab it at the same time North reached in its direction. She had just been that much faster, that wicked smile quirking her lips as she clutched it close to her body, “Nu-uh!”

“Rock, Paper, Scissors!” It wasn’t that he didn’t trust North, he just definitely didn’t trust North.

“Oh come on, Simon. You suck at it! You’re better off with a coin toss.”

“You’re right. But I don’t have any coins.”

North sighed, looking at him with a mix of annoyance and pity as she humoured him, throwing the rope over her shoulder as she did, in the case he tried to snatch it away. “One. Two. Three!” Simon stared despondent at his scissors as she pulled out her fist, crushing them under her rock. “I swear to god if you say the best two out of three I’m going to tie this rope around your neck.”

It was Simon’s turn to sigh as he held out his arm as sacrifice, not even bothering to fight it at this point. She wasn’t wrong, he had always been the unlucky one, often times he knew he placed himself in those positions. “You _were_ paying attention, weren’t you?”

“Yeah! Of course,” she insisted, voice light but with that edge that warned of her patience wearing thin. “You’ll be _fine_.”

It was not fine.

The manner in which the rope wrapped around his wrist was supposed to sit firmly just above his wrist and along the forearm, distributing weight and pressure along the entire length of the arm to avoid excessive strain on any one part. Somehow North had managed an entirely different knot that tended to bunch under his hand and tighten as she pulled at the rope. It wasn’t a terrible bother at first, but she was even struggling with the knot, trying to loosen it as he mentioned his fingers going cold and reduced mobility.

“Shit, how the hell-?”

“Ow, ow, ow, OW! North! Shit, you’re cutting off my ulnar nerve!”

“Quiet, I’m trying,” she all but used her teeth on the rope, picking at the braid to no avail, “Fuck!” She pulled back, reaching to her back pocket for her pocket knife only to be met with nothing. “Oh… shit. I must have left it in my bag.”

It was frightening, taking everything for him not to struggle further with the rope to keep it from working its way tighter around his wrist, trying to keep himself calm through a rising panic with slow, measured breaths through his nose. “I need my hands North.” There was a building pressure in his fingertips, pain blooming from the inside out. His index and middle finger still capable of motion while his ring and little finger curled inward, twitching in response to the effort he made to flex them.

“Give me your hand.”

Simon saw the glint of the blade from the corner of his eye before he truly focused on the owner of said voice, throwing his distressed arm in their direction. The male instructor carefully cut through the braid, the grip around Simon’s arm tight enough to keep him from snatching it back as the rope was pulled from his arm. “You _have_ to be more careful!”

Up close he was more mesmerizing, a dusting of freckles splattered over the bridge of his nose and the faint shade of stubble along his jaw both softening and defining his features. His brow furrowed over those crystalline eyes, the left a polished jadeite while the right was a brilliant blue topaz. It was almost enough for Simon to not notice the way he was massaging along his arm, easing the throbbing ache running through the nerve.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” North stammered out hastily, Simon could see her avoiding the other man’s gaze, “I have no idea what I’m doing, the knot didn’t come out right, I didn’t think it was a big deal, but then it just kept tightening every time I pulled on it and… shit.” She looked to the blonde, mortification in her eyes, “I’m sorry Si.”

He sighed through his nose, looking between the two of them, the hardness to his gaze relaxing as the tension diminished. Simon cleared his throat at that point, gently tugging at his arm to pry it away, “You’re alright, North. It was an accident, and neither of us know what we’re doing. But I can take my arm back now…?”

He felt the fingers around his arm twitch, like the other male just realized what he was still doing before quickly releasing him. “I- oh. Sorry,” he quickly stammered out, suddenly looking flustered himself. It was an honest response and didn’t so much shatter the impression of power he exuded as much as it added to him as a person. “I get that accidents happen, but ropework can be dangerous. It can cause nerve damage and cut off circulation. If the ropes stay on too long, clots can form and make it a medical emergency. Even if the situation doesn’t get to that extent, you can traumatize your partner out of trying rope bondage again.” As he spoke, he glanced back at Simon, concern creased in the features around his eyes, the other having taken to rubbing his own arm. The rope would leave a bit of a mark and the textures of the nylon were etched into the red skin.

“I’m fine. Really. It was only a minute or two, the damage was minor.”

“It was minor this time,” the instructor stressed, hands crossing over his chest with a sigh, “This really is the best environment for something to go wrong. If it had just been the two of you and a full body rig, it could have been so much worse.”

_“We’re not-”_

The other male glanced around, spotting an unoccupied table with a rope nearby. He stepped away to bring it to them, their own rope frayed where it had been cut. Those heterochromic eyes glancing between the two of them cautiously, gauging them. Simon felt his stomach grow cold, the uncomfortable ripple washing through him. Maybe the bad knot had affected him more than he would have liked to admit. North stiffened as well, obviously not confident and no longer thinking of this as a game. The professionals had a way of making it look so easy and now she was doubting herself.

“I can see both of you are uncomfortable,” he commented, though he looked worried for them, “I would hate if you left on a bad note. I’m sorry, but do you mind?”

He was looking at Simon, and yes, he minded a whole hell of a lot. His other arm was still throbbing vaguely in a way that was unsure if it just wanted to tickle or actually hurt. He wasn’t sure he could deal with something like that again. And yet he still put out his uninjured arm. “Yeah, go ahead.”

“North,” he spoke firmly, possibly picking up her name from Simon himself. The rope slithering around his arm, above the wrist. She nodded dumbly, glancing at Simon, feeling all sorts of guilty still. “When you tie the limbs, you want a knot that will not tighten when pulled.” As he spoke, he kept working on the rope, the tension in the strands enough to keep him from wiggling out, but it didn’t hurt any. His fingers were still warm and able to move, the pressure of the ropes feeling different from before.

“If you are looking for something to dissuade excessive movement, your best bet is to add on more rope to pin the limbs effectively. From your partner’s perspective, tying them too tight would come off as a punishment that is needlessly cruel, especially if they can’t help the fidgeting.”

His hands were warm, the way he held his arm and worked the nylon, if Simon looked away, he couldn’t feel the difference. He even allowed his other hand to get roped in (pun intended). He didn’t even think the instructor realized what he was doing, so caught up in the work itself and what he was saying. The black strands a stark contrast against Simon’s pale skin and green sweater. He felt strange, even as the last knot was tied, he stared owlishly at the way the simple bindings looked so intricate and just how he didn’t feel the panic rising up inside him. If anything, hearing the other male’s voice and watching him do the deed had an opposite effect. He felt so calm right now it was almost frightening if it didn't feel so surreal.

“How does it feel?” North suddenly quipped, a knowing smile on her face as he glanced between them.

“Yeah,” he shrugged looking away from the instructor in particular, “It’s not bad.”

He apparently either ignored the tells or was too far gone trying to teach that he reached to Simon, taking the blonde’s hand in his own, “I want you to squeeze as hard as you can. This is a test you should do periodically, making sure circulation is good and there is no nerve damage occurring. There are a couple other ways as well, but just be aware.”

Simon squeezed.

“Thank you,” North smiled, “And seriously, thanks for the save Markus.” Simon was thoroughly impressed she even remembered his name from the start.

“No worries. I’m glad I was here to help.” The instructor smiled, setting about untying Simon’s wrists. There were faint imprints of the rope along his arms, they were oddly attractive, even the ones North’s rope had left. Darker, bruising, but still a little thrilling, like getting a temporary tattoo as a child. Or maybe the chilling tingle down his back was knowing the other man’s name. “Chloe and I will have another workshop tomorrow if you’re interested.”

“Oh definitely! Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

Simon snorted, covering his face from view so as not to totally ruin North’s chances. She dug her knuckles into his side in retaliation, making him squirm away still smiling with a bit of a grimace. “Vicious,” Simon mumbled as he stood, rubbing his wounded rib with a rueful scowl in the redhead’s direction. He and Markus were roughly the same height, maybe with Simon being an inch taller at most. Still, he felt small beside someone like him. Confidence and assurity went a long way. He held out a hand, pretending not to be aware that they had been touching quite intimately the last five or so minutes, “I’m Simon. And again, thank you for your help.”

Markus didn’t hesitate, taking his hand in a firm and deliberate shake, his smile like the warm sun on a Detroit autumn day. So soothing, relaxing, comforting, but not quite enough. “I’m always happy to assist. It’s nice knowing the community is growing.”

“That would be my doing,” North grinned, elbowing her way between them to take Markus’ hand, “I talked this vanilla scoop to come with, he’s a good _friend_.”

Markus quirked a brow, glancing between them again, as if replaying their interactions since he had arrived to see what he had missed, “Oh… So you two aren’t-?”

“Absolutely not,” Simon sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “She’s like the little sister I never wanted.”

“And he likes men.”

His face felt hot and he knew he was turning pink. He didn’t really need to be called out like that, but again, it was just classic North. She enjoyed watching him squirm and he knew it was all part of the game. It may have been a little too far, but she didn’t mean anything by it. “Well then, I’ll head out. Nice meeting you Markus.”

The other male hadn’t responded at all, those eyes watching them, gauging and reading, suddenly more alert as if he didn’t want to misinterpret anything. “Nice meeting you.”

Simon just wanted to run away. “I’m getting something to eat munchkin, hurry up if you expect me to pay.”

“Walk slowly!” North called after him, still holding onto Markus’ hand.

* * *

_One hand set about working over his body, thumb circling a pert nipple lazily as the other trailed down, discreetly checking the tension in the rope around his hips before continuing down. Caressing the outer thigh, massaging around the ropes in a way that alleviated tension he hadn’t known he had been keeping. It wasn’t what he needed however, the endless teasing wearing him thin as he ground his teeth together, a frustrated groan keening from the back of his throat._

_“You sound so dejected, what is it you need Simon?”_

_Hearing his name racked his body with a hot jolt of pleasure, goosebumps tingling all over his body as the other took in every reaction he elicited from the normally reserved blonde. “Please touch me.”_

_“But I am,” the voice cooed playfully, a hint of sadism laced inside as his left nipple was tweaked for emphasis, his breath hitching in his throat somewhere between a gasp and a groan. “Is there something specific you want me to touch?”_

_The realization that the other was expecting an answer dawned on him, those hands never once making a move towards his desire. A broken note escaped him, something that didn’t readily sound human. He could barely recognize his own voice, yet he was expected to string together words. Somewhere inside, he felt himself cracking. The individual who would never have done this, never dreamed of being tied up by a stranger, of begging for release of an entirely different kind. That person was breaking._

_“Please,” he whimpered, head hung as low as he could manage, only for the hand on his chest to glide upwards, leaving his body to tilt his face up, exposing his neck, reminding him of just how vulnerable and powerless he was._

_“Please what?”_

_“God,” his voice was weak, uneven, “Please, touch my cock.”_

_The hand on his thigh moved without hurry, gliding to his hip bone, down into the hollow of his pelvis. Warm fingers with smooth calluses wrapping around him in a delicate grip._

_“Shit,” he gasped, voice pitching up as a languid pace was set. A series of swears tumbling from his tongue. It wasn’t enough, it was a gentle torture of teasing and soft voices and the trail of butterfly kisses along his shoulder._

_“You’re okay, you’re doing so well.” The way the pad of his thumb swiped over the sensitive head, toyed with the glans, spreading something warm and wet over the length of him. “You’re so cute.”_

_He shuddered from the inside out, like his broken pieces were being held together, ropes and knots containing the fragments, conforming them into something new._

* * *

“So what exactly are you planning to accomplish with this?” he called to the bathroom, pulling on a lavender button up despite the cynicism in his tone. Through the crack of the door, he caught a glimpse of North, nude from the waist up, pasties over her nipples as she wiggled her way into a black bodycon dress, red decal over the sweetheart bust and down the centre like a bleeding heart.

“It’s just a meet and greet, Si,” she called back from the room, using the mirror to look at him, unphased by his open shirt and unbuttoned slacks as he had been about her nearly bare breasts. “Alcohol consumption isn't allowed in the dungeon so I’m not looking for a wild orgy. They have a DJ, bartender, dancefloor. It’s just like going to a club.”

His fingers fumbled with his buttons, a minor tremor running through him. “So a lot of social, drunk people. Sounds like fun.”

“Oh, I forgot. The doctor doesn’t get out much.” North stepped out from the restroom, thigh-high stockings hugging her leg as she silently crossed the room to her bed to dig out the shoes she was going to wear. “Just relax and don’t look like I’m taking you out back like Ol’ Yeller.”

“Yes, well, being a doctor is a lot of work. People dying and all that.”

The redhead threw her boots onto the bed before approaching him, swatting his hands away from playing with the buttons and smoothed out the front of his shirt, the grey vertical stripes more flattering when not being crinkled between anxious fingers. “It looks good on you. Definitely screams I’m-a-gay-white-boy, but it looks nice.”

He sighed heavily, feeling heat crawl up his neck, “Gee. Thanks.”

She stood there a second longer, her smile faded before laying her head on his chest. Instinctively Simon wrapped his arms around her. “Am I a bad friend?”

“No, I wouldn’t say so. Why?”

“I made you uncomfortable,” she muttered, “I outed you without your consent to Markus. I know you don’t deny what you like, and you’re interested in him, aren’t you?”

Simon sighed again, holding her a little closer, “It’s fine. He’s attractive, sure, but you know-.”

“I swear to god if you say you don’t have the time.”

Leaning back, he looked down at her, sharp brown eyes threatening as well as genuinely concerned. “How else do you think we’d afford a room like this?” he attempted to appease her with a joke, hoping she would drop the subject.

“I may not know the truth, Si, but I know bullshit when I hear it. You’re scared. You’re scared of people, scared of letting anyone in like that. You need to get over it.”

He pulled away first, North letting him go easily, not wanting to crowd him too much. His sympathetic nervous system began working overtime, telling his heart to beat faster, the adrenal medulla releasing hormones into the bloodstream, beginning the cascade of signals to prepare him for a threat that was so long ago and so far away that it shouldn’t even matter. His hands gripped each other as he closed off from her, “I know.”

“You still don’t want to talk about it?” she offered, sitting down on the edge of the queen sized mattress she had claimed for herself. She looked so willing, encouraging, trying to pull it from him with her not-so-gentle coaxing.

“No. Not right now; I’m sorry. And I don’t resent you for what you said back there. I did feel uncomfortable, but it doesn’t matter.”

She sighed, pulling the boots on a little moodily, “No, it _does_ matter. And _I’m_ sorry. You can’t even let me regret being a shitty person properly.”

“I fail to see how that is somehow a problem.” He sat beside her, pulling on his own shoes, favouring the comfort of his black _Nikes_ despite the rather dressy attire he wore.

North leaned against his arm, tugging her zipper up, “If you won’t let it go, can you at least move forward?”

He thought it over a moment; he wasn’t against his feelings, he didn’t mind that he was gay. “Yeah, I can.” He smiled knowingly, catching North’s scowl before he even opened his mouth, “But I _really_ am too busy.”

“You know, being in a relationship is about making it work out.”

“Are you really qualified to be lecturing me miss free-loader?”

The redhead stood, taking a wide stance with hands on her hips as she stared him down, “Listen, Josh may be an idiot, using his head way too much and being shit at just having a conversation, and I may be emotional and temperamental, but we _try_ . Sometimes we need breaks, sometimes I want to tear his goddamn stupid head off, but we _try_.”

“I can’t ask someone to take a backseat,” Simon argued, leaning back on his hands, “It wouldn’t be fair to enter anything serious knowing that I can’t give my full attention to it for another three years.”

“If _they_ are serious, they should support you. Maybe make sure you actually eat some decent food. I’ve seen you after a sixteen hour shift.”

Simon smiled wryly, “Well, we can keep talking about this, or we can get going to your dance party thing.”

“Oh of course, _now_ you want to go!” she grumbled, stepping back as he got to his feet, “Talking to me suddenly became way more inconvenient than _human interaction_.”

“Rather, I’m too sober for this. You’re still buying.”

“I’m buying the _first_ round! I don’t make the six-digits around here. I owe you one drink for the pretty little bruise I gave you, but that is _it_.”

“North, you owe me more than that, but I’ll take what I can get.”

She shoved into his side as they stepped out into the hall, grabbing his arm in the process, “At least you know how to settle.”

The room set aside for the convention was quite spacious with said bar along the back wall nearest the exits and further in was the aforementioned dancefloor and DJ, the music wasn’t quite as loud as he had anticipated, perhaps because most everyone was talking. Even those on the dancefloor were more swaying while they spoke, some couples holding each other close. Some were dressed in club wear like North, high skirts, low tops, tight pants. Quite a few had incorporated their fetish into the nightlife scene; collars, chains and latex were so ubiquitous that he was quite certain he would become jaded to it all by the end of the night.

“Compare to everyone else, you look like you’re on your way to a bake sale,” North teased over the constant murmur of the room, the music more a background piece to it all.

Simon shrugged, “That just means I’m more likely to be left alone and asked if I’m lost.” He felt North release his arm, wandering towards the bar and not waiting for him to follow. “Eager much?”

“Hell yeah,” she grinned wildly, he hadn’t seen her so excited since college, when everything was still so new and an experience, “Hurry up and get a drink!”

He sighed softly, perhaps a bit fond of her contagious excitement, “Go on, you can pay me back tomorrow.”

“Don’t gotta tell me twice,” North chirped, easily peeling away, disappearing into the crowd.

Simon ordered a cherry brandy, facing the crowd with his back to the bar as he sipped the semi-sweet liquor. He felt secure on the outside, watching them as though looking into an aquarium. It was an entirely different world that he could never be a part of, he wasn’t like the colourful fish flitting in and out of view, their scales and colours catching the light, mesmerizing from the distance. Now and again he could see North, chatting with the couple from that morning, the man and his human chair. Other times she was laughing with a group of women who stood with that assurity he had come to recognize in those who identified as dominant. In the group, however, he recognized the pretty blonde from the workshop, Chloe. An eyebrow quirked as he tilted his head in confusion.

“Is anyone sitting here?” a voice interrupted his musings, causing Simon to partially choke on the sip of alcohol, burning the back of his throat in a way that wasn’t pleasant. “Oh, crap, are you okay?”

Through the coughing and teary eyes, Simon recognized Markus, conflicted as he contemplated if he should touch the other male. The blonde waved him off, clearing his throat and placing the cup down on the counter. “Markus,” he managed to choke out, “You snuck up on me.”

“I am so sorry, I-... I’m sorry.” He seemed just as flustered, not sure what to say or even sit down. He almost felt sorry for the other man.

Simon took Markus’ arm, pulling him into the seat beside him, still trying to sooth the irritation tickling his esophagus. “You’re fine. I’ll live.”

“Well that’s a relief,” he smiled, relaxing a bit. “I ran into North on the floor, she said you’d be hiding out back here.”

“Interesting,” Simon muttered, returning to sipping his drink. Markus was perhaps the most inconspicuous one there, while Simon stood out in just how plain he was, Markus toed the line with a tight asymmetrical shirt, playing with shades of grey and black while his pants hugged every curve of his body. While he was more lean, Markus was muscular, filled out in all the right places in just the right way. Again Simon found himself wondering just how perfect a person could be before it was agreed that they were not real. “Would you like a drink? Feels strange being the only one.”

“Just water, please.” The answer was in response to Simon, however he directed the request to the bartender who readily complied. Quirking his brow, the blonde was marginally impressed by just how smooth that was.

“Please tell me you’re over twenty-one.”

Markus froze with his cup halfway to his lips, as though processing where the question came from in the first place before smiling, “Yeah, of course.”

An invisible weight lifted from Simon’s shoulders, not even entirely sure why he was invested, or even concerned. Obviously everyone here had to be twenty-one or older, it was a fetish convention that served alcohol. “Right,” he managed, feeling silly.

An tense silence fell between them, and Simon wondered not for the last time what was going on through the other male’s head.

“I’m sorry, I’m usually more charming than this,” Markus offered, a weak smile at his own joke.

Simon appreciated it. “Well that’s good, because this is about as charming as I get.”

Markus’ smile widened, a little lopsided to the right. “Honest, maybe a little self-depreciating-.”

“A little?” Simon’s brow shot up, “It’s still early, give me some time to warm up.”

The laugh was more a sigh, but Simon considered it a victory. In the dim lighting of flashing rainbow lights, markus looked younger, his freckles more prominent in the indirect lighting while his stubble seemed to have been shaven a short while ago. If any was left, he couldn’t see it well. Simon came to the conclusion the other male was cute. Handsome as well, of course, but oddly endearing in a way that made him melt from the inside.

“Yes, North warned me about that,” Markus sipped his water, the entire time those heterochromic irises never broke away from Simon.

He looked away first, contemplating how messed up he wanted to be by the end of the night, taking a swig of his drink instead of the usual sips. “Are you always so intense?”

“Depends.”

He didn’t expand on that answer and Simon considered if he really wanted to know. But it was just dangling there, begging for him to acknowledge it. It would be cruel not to indulge. “On what exactly?”

“How badly I want something.” Markus smiled knowingly, allowing his eyes to rake over the other from head to toe to head, his gaze piercing even in the dim lighting as Simon fought a shudder.

Instead, he gave an awkward little chuckle, “Oh honey, no. You shouldn’t settle like that.” His finger glided over the rim of the glass, suddenly not in control of the situation. “You could literally get anyone.”

“Well,” Markus smiled, tilting his head to the side to get a better look at Simon’s face, “I’m _trying_ to. But he seems to be struggling with this.”

“Look, Markus,” he placed the half-empty glass on the counter, turning to face the other male head on, entwining his fingers together in a way that appeared professional only to hide how uncomfortable he felt, “I’m… flattered. Truly. But I’m _vanilla_. I’m not really your calibre.”

“You can always add flavour to vanilla,” the other male offered.

“I’ve never had a one night stand in my life.”

“I was hoping it would be more than _one night_ ,” Markus broke contact, his shier side shining through in that moment as he focused in on his cup of ice, “If that is all it comes out to be, that’s fine with me. I mean, if you don’t mind trying for one night, we can see how it goes from there.”

Simon sighed, his heart skipping a beat. Physically he wanted it. A desire he had only indulged in by himself, but mentally he was aware that this was just a little escape from his life, that this wouldn’t last. People at this convention were from all over Michigan, some were even out of state. He couldn’t handle a long distance relationship on top of the stress of his job _and_ residency.

“Is that how it works? No strings attached? Just … whatever we’re feeling?” He honestly had no clue. He knew North had several relationships before settling in with Josh, while Josh seemed more stable, having only a few long term relationships before North. Simon only had _the one_.

“If that is how you want this to go.”

He shouldn’t, be he _wanted_ to. He could remember the warmth of Markus’ hands and the tender way he had tied him up earlier that day. It had been an experience, perhaps one he wasn’t against exploring. His emotional side caving to how Markus smiled in a way that was both hopeful and vulnerable.

“Why me?” The words left him so suddenly, he tried to cover his surprise by taking the drink back in his hand, swirling the ruby liquor around as a distraction.

“You’re so distant from everyone, you stand out,” Markus responded readily as if he knew the question would come from the start, “I want to get to know you.”

Simon smirked, the doubts in the back of his mind worming their way to the surface, “And the sex is just the opener?”

“Honestly, if you just want to sit here and talk all night, I’m all for it. But I do find you very attractive, physically, and I do want you.”

His heart skipped at the blunt confession, unsure how to proceed through such an open door or even turn away. “You mean you want to tie me up,” Simon joked, glancing back up to Markus’ face. His pupils were dilated, the colour of his eyes mere rings of a universe surrounding a black hole, pulling him in.

“If that’s what _you_ want, yes.”

It crossed his mind that maybe North had been the one to set this scene up. She had asked if he was willing to move on, asked about Markus, stayed behind after the workshop, and even led Markus right to him. At the same moment, he questioned if he really cared. He could _see_ the other male wasn’t really forcing himself. And the thought of being tied up again wasn’t a turn-off, if anything it made his stomach flutter in anticipation.

_‘It’s a vacation. Have some fun.’_

“Yeah, okay.” He did want it, even if it wouldn’t go anywhere.

Simon made to sip his alcohol for something to steady his nerves only to have Markus place a hand on the lip of the glass, gently pushing it down. “If we’re going to do _that_ , I would like if you didn’t drink any more.” In what felt like a daze, Simon let Markus take the glass, place it on the counter between them, giving a dazzling yet encouraging smile the entire time. It perhaps hadn’t quite dawned on him that this was real, but he’d follow this dream to the point he woke up.

Markus hailed the bartender for a pen and took one of the cardboard coasters to write a room number on the back, handing it to Simon. “This is my room, if you decide this isn’t what you want at any point, don’t worry about having to explain a thing. It's fine if you decide not to show up.”

He slid away, leaving through the thick double glass doors, something tugging at Simon’s chest, like a thread being pulled.

* * *

_He watched everything, the gloss of sweat beading along flushed pale skin, the haze of pink dusting across the tips of his ears, the way the light played along his oblong face, shadows settling in the hollows of his cheeks. He vaguely regretted not choosing a position where he could clearly see the blonde’s face, but the blindfold would cover those gentle and expressive eyes. Instead, he focused on the delicious little sounds and the way pleasure rippled through the muscles of his legs and back, how his toes would curl and twitch and his stomach would tighten out of time with every hot, open-mouthed breath. The initial groans of frustration slowly pitching higher as Markus gradually added pressure while maintaining the steady rhythm._

_He honed in on little sighs as he toyed with the foreskin, the gasps of pleasure as his thumb slid over the slit, smearing precum over the pink head. His favourite had to be the ragged moans that would escape as he ran the knuckle of his index finger along the underside of the glans with every upward stroke. His whole body would react, head thrown back, entire frame quivering with ecstasy._

_“Markus!” Simon gasped out his name. It sent a rolling heat straight through his stomach to his groin. His voice thick, worn and needy. He wanted to fulfill that need, speeding up his motions, wanting to watch the blonde come undone. “No, Markus! W-wait!”_

_His hand slowed, not wanting to jolt the other by stopping immediately, resuming his initial pressure to the choked sob of the blonde. “What is it, Simon?”_

_“I’m going to cum.”_

_A small smile tugged at Markus’ lips at the confession. He loved hearing those harsh words spill from the demure male. “That’s the point, beautiful.” He enunciated the compliment with a twist of his wrist, watching the shockwaves of the simple action dance through the other. The way he involuntarily pulled at the ropes promising marks for at least a few days. The thought of leaving any kind of reminder on him was exciting._

_“N-No. Markus, I want you.”_

_He was so cute it was almost painful to tease him, but it was so satisfying to watch him struggle with himself. “I’m right here, baby. What do you want me to do?” Markus place another kiss along his back, trailing down the ridges of his spine._

_“Oh my god,” he groaned pitifully, Markus could feel the reverb from where he nipped playfully along the crest of his shoulder blade. “Fuck me, Markus! I want you to fuck me!”_

_He barely bit back the laughter that threatened to bubble up, the desperation and irritation clear, but the vulgar language shooting straight to his straining groin._

_“Alright, I’m going to lay you down.” Markus placed a hand flush against the other’s chest, using his elbow to ease Simon forward, face down onto the wood flooring._

_His back arched beautifully, hands twitching at the back of his neck, unsure of how to distribute his weight to balance with his ankles still laced to his thighs, forcing him high on his knees. The view was beautiful, lithe frame spread open for him. Markus caressed the inside of slender thighs, muscles fluttering under his fingertips. The puckered entrance like a virgin, gripping the blonde’s hip he pressed the tip of his tongue against the quivering hole, flicking downward to drag the flat of his tongue along the ring of muscles. He was tight, Markus couldn’t even worm the tip inside. He tasted clean, untouched._

_“Fuck!” Simon swore, toes curling in, the skin around the ropes an agitated red colour from all his fussing._

_“All in due time.” Markus’ quip was met with a groan, though he caught the flash of a smile. Reaching to the dresser for the bottle of lubricant, pouring a generous amount over his fingers. “You really are tight.”_

_“I warned you.”_

_“It’s fine,” Markus pressed a slippery digit against the entrance, applying a slight pressure before relaxing. “You’re really just too cute.”_

_Simon grunted as Markus slipped inside to the first knuckle. He waited, feeling the muscles spasm at being penetrated, allowing the other to get used to the sensation before retracting until only his fingertip remained before pressing back in, a little less patient as he pushed in to just before the second joint of his middle finger. Simon gave a shuddering gasp in response, Markus training his body to accept him, coaxing it into submission. The heat was immense, the inner walls clenching around the single digit. Markus placed a kiss at the small of the blonde’s back, adding another._

_The sounds he made were tighter, still aroused and needy, but a lace of pain pulling him from that headspace he had been in earlier. Markus reached down, hand wrapping around his girth, adding gentle friction to distract the other male as he scissored inside, slowly dragging them out to the tip before sliding back in, curling his fingers as they were buried to the hilt. He heard the gasp as every muscle clenched down, the blonde’s toes splayed out involuntarily. He repeated the action, earning a muffled moan._

_“Are you biting your lip again?”_

_There was a delay of silence, his hands stilling in their motion entirely as he waited for an answer, earning a whimpering, “Yes.”_

_Markus choked back a laugh, though unable to hold off his smile, “I honestly didn’t expect the truth.”_

_“God, Markus, move, please!” Simon begged, back arching further to try and keep the sensations alive. The direct request coming so easily, perhaps he hadn’t slipped as much as Markus had thought._

_“Ah, I did say you already had your last warning,” he released the other’s weeping arousal to a dismayed mewl. “You need to be punished for being disobedient.”_

_He felt Simon tighten around him, even as he slowly continued to thrust with his fingers. Using his free hand, he took the blonde’s foot, feeling the other male jerk back. A wicked idea crossed Markus’ mind as he danced his fingertips over the sole of the other’s foot, a loud gasp and whimpering moans between short bursts of laughter._

_“Are you going to bite your lip again?” he asked playfully, taking the opportunity to add a third finger as Simon’s feet flailed helplessly, kept in place by the ropes._

_“No! No I won’t bite again!” Simon practically yelled, as though trying to talk over his own voice, “I promise! Oh my god, Markus! I can’t!”_

_Markus giggled in return, but accepted the apology, ending his abuse of the other’s foot as he splayed out the fingers inside the other, Simon suddenly aware of how full he was feeling with a deep moan. Or perhaps he was just appreciating not being tickled further. “Good boy. I want to hear everything.”_

_Simon responded eagerly, quickly falling into his headspace. The ropes had to be getting uncomfortable, the pressure against his chest with the weight of his hands at the back of his neck must have made it hard to breathe, but he hadn’t complained once, too far gone. He broke through that barrier and Markus really did regret his decisions, at least for the first time. He wanted to_ see _. How did he look? His mouth fallen open, lewd noises tumbling from the back of his throat. Those gentle eyes hazed over and unfocused with lust._

_Imagining it, he felt a hot need, pumping his fingers a few more times before pulling away. “Simon, may I enter you?”_

_His voice was thin, shuddering with desire, he definitely wasn’t all there any longer, sinking deeper._

_“Yes, please.”_

* * *

 

Simon sat at the edge of the bed, staring at the cardboard coaster with the numbers scrawled along the top. Hair still damp from the shower, he contemplated if this was really something he should be doing. He did want to, the excitement and desire a direct contrast to his rational brain screaming this was a bad idea.

North glared at his back, dressed in fleece pyjamas with her hair wrapped up in a towel on the top of her head. “You better fucking go.”

“It’s a bad idea.”

She scoffed, “Live a little and just take the plunge, you don’t even know how it’ll turn out!”

“He’s a complete stranger.”

“If you’re not back by tomorrow morning, I’ll come with the police myself, cool?” She crossed her arms resolutely, playing the devil on his shoulder. She seemed to take great pride in the role nonetheless.

Simon groaned, holding his head in his hand as he fought with himself. His stomach felt a little queasy, not entirely sure if it was the nerves or just how _empty_ he felt.

“Si, you literally spent the last two hours getting ready, just _fucking go_.”

Sighing, Simon got to his feet, handing the coaster over as he passed her bed. “This is such a bad idea,” he half-joked, “If anything goes wrong, I’m blaming you.”

“Sounds fair,” she quipped back, taking the little cutout of a circle and admiring the handwriting as well. “No lie, I didn’t stand a chance against you. Your puppy dog face and mysterious aura win again.”

“I’m not mysterious.”

North barked out a laugh, “Then act like it. You have a lot of secrets Si, even from your friends.”

“That just makes me an asshole,” he laughed, earning a genuine smile in response as he headed for the door. “Seriously though, If I’m not back by breakfast, call the cops.”

“Roger that,” she threw him a lazy salute, “Have fun. Use protection!”

“Yes _Mom_ ,” he smirked back, throwing his own two-finger salute as he left the room before North could throw a pillow at him.

Markus’ room was within the same tier as his own, just a floor down. Simon briefly wondered what sort of occupation the other had to afford the more expensive suites. The thought did cross his mind that maybe it was a favour given to him by the convention organizers, being a workshop host and all.

The halls were deserted, the elevator empty allowing him the time to once again question his decisions. And yet every step closer sent his pulse racing with anticipation. It wasn’t just the idea of sex, Markus seemed like a genuinely kind person. A gentle forcefulness that Simon had only encountered in his line of work while dealing with patients. It gave the same sense of security, comfort, willingness to give up the control of whatever the situation was, and it felt nice not being _in_ control. At the same time, none of this was against what he wanted, and not once did he feel pressured or coerced.

He knocked.

Markus was still dressed in the tight informal clothing from before, in the bright lights of the hall, he was just as stunning. His eyes taking in Simon’s still-damp hair and relaxed clothing, pupils dilating, a slight quirk in his lips as he stepped to the side, gesturing for the blonde to enter. “I’m happy you came.”

Something so simple shouldn’t set off a flurry of butterflies in his stomach. Simon bowed his head, mumbling a thank you as he stepped into the anteroom. Now inside, he could see some differences in the floorplan between their rooms. While he and North had adjacent rooms separated from each other and the common room with doors, Markus had an open floor plan, an archway leading to a large king-sized bed. The room was hardwood instead of carpet, keeping the entire design warm with tones of red, gold and brown.

Markus motioned for him to sit on the couch and he numbly obeyed, not quite sure what to expect in this exact exchange. Everything was new and he was painfully aware of just how much he needed to rely on the other man to lead him. “Do you prefer apple or orange juice?”

“Apple,” Simon called back, watching Markus pour the sugary drink into a wine glass, as though apologizing for earlier. He handed the goblet over, the blonde unable to hide the smile at how juvenile the whole thing was, but it felt nice. It felt easy. “What’s the juice for?”

“Just to keep your blood sugar up.” Markus sipped his own drink, settling on the couch beside him. Not too close to be overly intimate, but not too distant either. Somehow striking a delicate balance just right for where they were currently at.

Simon relaxed into the back cushions, “Not what I was expecting, but I’m not complaining.”

Markus shared the smile, “What were you looking for?”

“Something a bit more Christian Grey-ish,” he joked. Markus snorted, that lopsided smile definitely more charming in the relaxed atmosphere.

“You know, there is more to BDSM than whips and chains. Though I am quite fond of the chains myself.”

“Kinky.” They looked at each other for a long second before laughing. It felt cozy, not just because the heater was definitely going, or even the fiery decor of the room, but just the company and the sound of Markus’ laugh and the heat radiating off his body to the warm tones of his tanned skin. This was quickly becoming the best decision of Simon’s life.

“I think so,” Markus quipped back through his chuckles.

“So if non-kink is considered vanilla, what flavour would BDSM be?” Simon offered, genuinely curious and partly hoping to keep the other laughing.

Markus smiled, “BDSM is not just one thing, rather is it an acronym for several different styles of kink. Like “B” and “D” stand for bondage and discipline. They tend to go hand in hand but not always. Bondage I would consider a strawberry swirl. It is a surprisingly common interest, even for people not part of the greater community.”

“Honestly, before today I had never considered it,” Simon admitted, “Though to be fair, I have only ever thought of sex maybe a handful of times since high school.”

Markus quirked an incredulous eyebrow at the blonde, “I mean, granted I don’t think about sex every day, but that seems like a terribly long time.”

“I’ve more or less dedicated my life to my career. Didn’t date throughout college and, since I told you earlier that this is the first time I’ve hooked up, I think you can put two and two together.”

“I can respect that,” the other male acquiesced, “I have been single for about two years, truthfully. I have a pretty flexible job, so I can dedicate my time according to what I have going on in my life. Aside from a few bondage performances, I’ve just been painting.”

Simon’s brow raised in interest and surprise, “An artist. That explains your ropework too I suppose. You treat it like an artform.”

“I really is though,” Markus’ eyes lit up, “Everything from the types of knot to the flourishes in how you tie a leg or an arm. It is a deliberate choice being made. Like every stroke of the brush or smudge of graphite, you have to make that choice as an artist. The rope is just another medium.”

Simon could only stare, lips parted in thoughtful admiration. “You’re very passionate.”

“Nothing is worth the effort if there is no passion.” Simon considered that a moment, thinking back to the hospital, the reason why he was in residency to be a surgeon. He didn’t have a response, so abandoned the topic entirely.

“So if bondage is strawberry swirl…”

“Discipline would probably make that neapolatin. I mean, people typically associate discipline with pain, but it is really a broad topic,” Markus slid back into the tempo easily, swirling the glass with the remains of his juice. “Pain is more associated with the sadomasochism aspect of the community. Which has definitely got to be black cherry and chocolate.”

“Ooh,” Simon perked, tilting his head to the side, “Pulling out the fancy stuff.”

“Isn’t it though?” Markus joked, “It is the stuff everyone associates with the taboo. Like black cherry ice cream is associated with those hipsters who can’t just enjoy strawberry like the rest of us. It isn’t a fair assessment of what it entails, but ‘S’ and ‘M’ tends to be the face of the community.”

“Well, I don’t think I’m up for that,” Simon smiled wryly, having gulped down the rest of his drink, placing the cup on the glass coffee table, crossing his legs as he leaned back into the soft cushions. With a flourish he placed a hand against his own chest, earning a confused grin from the other male, “I don’t do pain well; I is a soft boy.”

Markus allowed a hand to fall on Simon’s crossed knee, giving him a little reassuring squeeze. For some reason Simon felt it in his chest. “Don’t worry, I’m not much of a sadist myself. I’m not big on humiliation either.”

“Well that’s good. I’d hate to have disappointed you.”

Markus gave him a tender look over that left Simon suppressing a shiver as warmth built up in his stomach. There was no heat to the gaze, no predatory desire, just a cursory inspection that held nothing but approval. And here he was getting turned on by something so simple. Markus leaned back, his hand sliding from the other’s knee in a way that lingered, the warmth, the phantom touch. Simon missed the weight of it the moment it was gone.

“There is also the domination and submission subgroup we kind of skipped over. If bondage is strawberry swirl and sadomasochism black cherry, the Dom/Sub relationship has to be an Orange Dreamsicle.”

“Or maybe you’re just a romantic.”

“I can’t deny that,” Markus agreed, giving a knowing smile. “Most relationships, even vanilla, have a dominate and submissive dynamic, it is just more explicit for us, and entails more of a framework. A specific set of roles each is looking to fulfill and be fulfilled.” His smile relaxed some, looking a bit more professional, “On that note, I did want to just reaffirm some things.” Simon turned further towards him as he could manage on the sofa, giving his full attention with a gesture to continue. “Do you want to engage in sex?”

It seemed like an unnecessary question, he was here after all. “Yes?”

“You sound unsure,” Markus’ smile was gone and it left Simon feeling anxious.

The blonde shook his head, “No, I mean, I’m unsure why you’re asking. I’m here. I came here to… for _that_. So yes. I want to.”

“And we agree that this is open-ended? No strings attached, no obligations for engaging in this.”

Simon nodded, his heart fluttering in a way that was mildly unpleasant. “Yeah.”

Markus nodded, his features softening now that he had absolute confirmation. Simon realized it may have felt ambiguous up until this point. Immediately Simon felt himself relax as well, his butterflies now responding enthusiastically positive. The blonde’s interlaced fingers on his lap rubbing impatient circles into his knuckles.

“I want to set a safe word,” Markus continued, “Even if we aren’t going to use pain, I don’t want there to be anything that may cause unnecessary distress. I want you to remember that you are always in control of whether a scene moves forward or not, I will not do anything you do not want me to do.”

Simon nodded slowly, “So ‘Stop’ isn’t on the table?”

“It definitely is,” Markus nodded, “It is a default safeword, and familiar. I want it to be something you can easily remember.”

“I’ll take that then.”

“So just to clarify, when the word ‘Stop’ is used during the scene, it will mean that something has pushed past your limits and we will stop the scene. Understood?”

Simon nodded. Markus gave him a look and the realization dawned upon him that this wasn’t just a discussion, it was a verbal contract being built between them. It happened so suddenly he didn’t quite catch on, but it explained the other’s seriousness on the matter. “Yes.”

Markus smiled a different kind of smile, something gentle but strong, and Simon felt himself wanting to be under that smile. “Good. So now that we’re on the same page, would you like to begin?”

“Yeah.” Simon flushed slightly at how weak his voice sounded, coughing into his hand to clear his throat. Markus’ crooked grin too dazzling for him.

“Please stand in the middle of the room and undress for me.”

Simon immediately felt shy, getting to his feet obediently, though hesitantly. “You don’t start off easy do you?”

“Does it make you uncomfortable?”

Simon smiled despite himself, pulling his sweatshirt off over his head, leaving the plain button up underneath, “Well, maybe turning off the lights would help.”

Markus watched him start on the buttons before getting to his feet, “Hold on a moment.” The blonde paused as the other disappeared into the bedroom before returning with something in his hand. “Perhaps we can compromise.” He stood behind Simon, sliding his arms on on either side of his head to hold up what turned out to be a thick blindfold, the straps at the back designed more like a belt than a sleep mask. It was intimidating, and exciting.

“How would I-?”

“I’ll direct you.”

His heart raced in his ears as he felt that same cooling excitement when Markus had first tied him up. “Yeah. Okay.”

The inside layer was soft velvet, smooth and comfortable despite how the outside layer of leather and rivets. He felt Markus pull on the belt, tugging him back and flush against the other’s firm chest. Immediately he was immersed in a darkness that spanned eternity, his reservations melting away with the light.

“Put your hands behind your head,” the other’s voice spoke gently into his ear, hot breath grazing the outer shell in a way that sent shivers down his spine. If felt so much _more_ in the darkness. Complying wordlessly, his hands cupped over each other, cradling the base of his skull, he felt the other’s arms wrap around him, tugging at the front of his shirt, unbuttoning from the dip of his collarbone downward. The way the fabric hung against his body the only indication that he was now exposed from the waist up.

“Drop your arms.”

The shirt fell unceremoniously to the floow, he hear the fabric collapse in on itself, sounding heavy against the hardwood floor. He expected the hands to start on his trousers, but instead, they caressed his pectorals, feeling the curve of the muscle before trailing downward, his bare chest, the thin trail of blonde hair under his navel disappearing below the fabric of his pants. Markus explored him before starting on the buckle at the front. In one motion he was left nude and exposed, feeling the fabric of the other’s dark jeans against his ass. He lifted his legs as directed, leaning more than he normally would have on Markus if he could only see.

“You’re uncut,” the observation sounded mildly surprised.

Simon fought the urge to cover himself, sheepishly crossing his arms. “Yeah.”

“It’s cute,” Markus complimented, though his voice came out as a sigh, as though he was becoming intoxicated with everything that was Simon. From where he stood behind the blonde, Markus leaned over, placing a feather light kiss at the junction of Simon’s shoulder, travelling up his neck lazily to the underside of his jaw. A shuddering breath, a silent moan, was the only response he could manage. Warm hands took his own, leading them to the front of his chest, crossing them over at the wrist.

“Keep them here.”

Suddenly he was gone, and Simon felt lost, the darkness that was once comforting like floating in space suddenly felt more like open water, his only lifeline the order given to him and his obedience to keep it.

The rope glided over his wrists.

* * *

Simon woke up to the heat of a body pressed against his bare back. Dressed in nothing but his boxer briefs, he was engulfed in warmth, arms wrapped around his middle loosely and the heater humming dully in the background with the thick comforter draped over his shoulders. The day before slowly coming back to him as the blonde attempted to wiggle his way free. An ache rippled through his hips as he moved, his entire body from his neck to his calves throbbing painfully.

He began to wonder what possessed him into thinking this was a good idea, gingerly pulling out of Markus’ grasp. Everything hurt, his muscles hurt, his skin was definitely bruised and his insides felt raw. Wincing as he sat on the edge of the bed, Simon glanced back to the other male. Markus had taken to hugging the pillow Simon had been using, his face serious even as he slept. The blonde couldn’t help the smile.

His wrists, forearms, upper arms, thighs and calves were etched with the outlines of the rope used to tie them. They were bruised a faint purple, they were almost pretty.

“Like artwork,” he murmured, admiring the texture that had transferred into the markings themselves. He loved them.

On the bedside table, his clothes had been folded neatly. He didn’t recall even seeing his clothing after the blindfold came off, barely remembering through a sleepy haze of the hot water of a bath, fingers raking through his short hair, strong arms holding him as a gentle voice spoke sweet gibberish.

Pulling on his shirt, stiff muscles aching in protest, he figured he wouldn’t bother with the sweatshirt. It was just a short trip up the elevator to his floor and a painful walk of shame back to his room. Taking his jeans from the table, rolling the pants delicately over the faint a small square of paper fell from the back pocket along with his cellphone, the screen flashing on, letting him know it was still early. Grabbing them both from the floor, he flicked the note open, a stupid grin spreading across his face, shooting a look back at the sleeping figure behind him.

_313-XXX-XXXX_

_I’m willing to try._

_Markus_

He really didn’t have the time, he still had three more years. It really wouldn’t be fair, asking someone to take the back seat. He really couldn’t.

_Contact Saved_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not think any of the subsequent chapters are going to be nearly this long. This opening chapter just, sorta, ran away from me. I wanted it to be something between casual slice of life with some kind educational bits for those who are unfamiliar with the culture. Definitely wanted it to be sexy and cute.
> 
> Just certain scenes would get away from me or certain dialogue sequences would just flow from one to the other so easily it was harder to stop or move the scene forward. I do hope you manage the length of this monstrosity and look forward to new chapters that are, hopefully, not as long.


	2. Bridge: Morning After

_Good morning._

_Sorry if I left too suddenly, I didn’t want to wake you._

_I got your note._

_Obviously._

_Morning!_

_Honestly didn’t think I would hear from you for a while._

_And it’s fine. Did you make it back okay?_

_You thought I would leave you waiting?_

_And I managed to beat the breakfast crowd. There were no witnesses to that disaster._

_At least a little while._

_I was prepared to lose hope after the second week._

_You seem to be the sort who needs to think things over seriously._

_I did think it over. And everything told me this was a really bad idea._

_But everything about you seems like a bad idea._

_Ouch._

_Making me sound like I’m trying to bring you to the dark side._

_Last night was the best bad idea I ever had, if that lessens the sting._

_If anything, you’re the one offering your soul cheap._

_I consider this more of an investment._

_Though I would sell my soul for a coffee right about now._

_Yes, definitely all the bad decisions._

_So can I expect not to see you at the workshop today?_

_Tsunami check. I’m still trying to remember how legs work._

_Well thank you!_

_Honestly, you were great._

_Oh god. It was sex, not a spelling bee._

_I was tied up the entire time._

_My magnum opus as far as I’m concerned._

_You shouldn’t lie so big, it makes it obvious._

_I’m an artist, not an actor, Simon._

_I lie like a two year old caught in the act._

_I have to see that._

_It may take some time. Need a good reason to lie to that face._

_I just noticed, your area code is from outside Detroit._

_Yeah, I’m from Armada._

_I live in Detroit, however. I just kept my old number._

_That’s that town with the Halloween festival, right?_

_That is awesome._

_Yeah. I think we only exist for that one month._

_Like a real life Halloween Town, Nightmare before Christmas style._

_Seriously, that’s awesome._

_I went once with my dad when I was still a kid._

_I don’t remember much except the food and architecture._

_It’s a very folksy town, so that’s forgiven._

_I haven’t gone since middle school to be honest, I’m not very spooky._

_More of a Christmas Town sort._

_Call me Jack Skellington._

_When I first came to Detroit for uni, it was a reenactment of What’s this._

_I got so lost._

_I was born and raised in Detroit, even I get lost._

_It’s okay._

_Oh good._

_Because I practically married my GPS._

_Does it have a british accent?_

_Of course. Best voice._

_Oh I already know about that voice kink of yours._

_Must look forward to driving every day._

_OMG_

_Don’t use my kinks against me!_

_I make no promises!_

_Mean!_

_I’m still pretty tired, I’m going back to bed._

_I’ll text you later?_

_Are you really asking to text me?_

_I am literally going to be waiting all day with rising expectations._

_I want to hear from you._

_I may just keep you waiting then._

_Sadist detected!_

_That’s so cruel!_

_I’d make a terrible sadist. I would apologize constantly._

_I could see that, it’s pretty funny._

_Btw, take it easy for the next day or so. If you’re sore, don’t push it._

_Alright. Will do._

_We might not see each other again._

_At least not before the convention ends._

_Oh god, don’t give me heart attacks like that._

_I don’t mind, you just need to rest._

_When you’re up for it, we can go grab a coffee or something._

_You were serious about that?_

_I’m not all talk handsome. I really do want to try._

_I mean, if we’re just friends, or friends with benefits, I’m good with that._

_For now._

_Yeah, but there is no reason to rush things._

_Investments are something that takes time._

_So should I consider this a date or a friendly outing?_

_I would love if you would call it a date._

_But I am seriously just happy you said yes._

_Definitely a romantic._

_Definitely._

_It’s actually really cute._

_Totally different side of you. It’s sweet._

_I mean, I don’t get it, but it’s cute._

_We’ll work on that._

_Alright, seriously, need to sleep, I just dropped my phone on my face._

_No! Not the face!_

_Go to bed, I’ll text you when you wake up._

_Sleep well._

_Good night._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just setting this up with an open door, the first chapter really felt like a one shot all on its own. Like, it doesn't need a whole story, but I really want to tell their full story. So here is a little bridge chapter to set the stage.
> 
> This story will probably be updated every other week or so. If that changes, I will update that information in the notes. I hope you enjoyed the fluff.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos would be so appreciated, you have no idea. If you liked it, please let me know.  
> This story will be updated every month. If schedule changes, it will be posted in the notes.
> 
> I am currently living out of my car due to family issues at home and don't have much incentive to write. I apologize for the delays, I'm just terribly depressed.


End file.
